Sunday, July 31, 2011

Most employment involves a lot ofbathroom cleaning. Which makes me evenmore thankful that food is so good. Or itcan be. Usually.

Is doing the right thing forward-looking?I’m at that point where I can’t tell. It’skind of a new point. Does anyone elseunderstand? Anything can be too much,of course. And tonight anything’spossible, too.

That Harry Potter. Now we’re atmy place for a Bergman flick. Theangel on my shoulder is cookingand the devil on my shoulder isdepressed. I’m not sure what Ican do.

But, yeah, food can be really great.Denzel Washington’s two girlswork at Hooters and I couldreally go for that about now.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

If only at first I could have rememberedthe word clever. Nothing seems to find its waythrough the fog of exhaustion. Except thisswollen ankle I’m getting most evenings(note to self: a] get checked again fordiabetes; b] you’re not a hypochondriacexcept on purpose; like in character).

To quickly move from one thing to thenext. This can be a nice diversion whengiving a sermon. Unless repeated too often.It’s a shell game. You can’t lead a man to theright walnut without teaching him how to get there(which requires learning how to forget, right?).

Many things. I threw myself a birthday partySaturday night. Lot of folks danced until 5:30am.Most with various intoxicants. Then hand-in-handup my hill. Which was the highlight of my walk,if not my late 30s. Or the magic replay in myhead says we’re really a couple.

The lovely talk on the sofa makes it a boyfriendcollage. These things make a lot of money inthe art world of life. And money isn’t the object.I mean it’s not an object. I meant it more likefirewood or kindling. The kind that gives you aquick fortuitous heart attack at seventy-one on awinter morning you’d like to use your fireplace.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Make a list of the voices to dissipate aheadache. Something like countingsheep. Appreciate the dissonancewhich jogs focus. Logic, as ever,prevails. Just to see the roof ofits mouth. Word word peanutbutter. But actually better,because hunger dissipatestoo.

Monday, July 18, 2011

You remind me I’m unfinished.Come very close to calling thingsoff. This childish out of mymouth. It gets to me after I’mreassured glorious, e.g., gettingout of Arkansas or finally talkingParis. Who knew it was like this?I mean I can’t remember the badstuff. Or anything, mostly. So Iset up a drink date at my place,playing Cupid (or his lustylittle brother). Back to the28th floor. Back to left-overs and fiasco. Watchone more scary moviefor fake horror.

Sunday, July 03, 2011

The word is your going through a bad spell.I love you in the kitchen but I’m jealous ofthe kitchen. Drop a book somewhere inbetween us, like halfway. Make a noisein there. Scratch or cluck, scrape a broadbrush over the canvas—a loud stroke.

I found paint supplies in most of thekitchen cabinets. Ease cock, the color oftongue, onto the balance. Hair drifts apartbut finds its thing. All is inevitable. Orthat’s what the kitchen thinks. I repeat abeer to my brain, endless. It’s water with

a slice of lemon. Eases butter as it melts.Dip an oar into the cool creek. Like that.